


“Salacious”

by o666666



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o666666/pseuds/o666666
Summary: Pertinent investigations in Scully’s closet. Early MSR.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 71





	“Salacious”

Well, they are a couple now. And _really_ , they act like it.

For example, Mulder sees fit, now, to snoop through Scully’s closet. She will be making the spaghetti, picking the DVD, blow drying her hair in the morning and he will amble off to her bedroom to scan her drawers for the clothes in which his horniest self had longingly imagined her.

Okay—also his sweet, usual self. He loves her in the white sundress she wore in her twenties, and he knows far more than even she about Freud and free association.

But. She will be making the spaghetti, picking the DVD, going to her room to find out what the hell he’s up to when he will present her, wide eyed, with: the bikini Melissa made her buy for Cabo (1991), the black “going out” tank top (1984-1989), the never-worn pink mohair sweater (Maggie’s gift, Christmas 1990?), the skin-tight bicycle shorts she wears running only sometimes. And the shoes. The silky Manolo Blahnik mules she swore would heal her in the wake of her breakup with Daniel.

“Please, Scully,” he’ll say, proffering the indecent item. _Try it on for me._ “This is, like…” a long, incredulous pause. “ _Salacious_.”

Her eyebrow, raised. “I do not own anything _salacious_ , Mulder.”

“Really?” he asks. Because the bikini in his hands is blue. With _strings_.

“Mulder, if you want to see me in that you’re gonna have to find a case on time travel. To Cabo. In springtime.”

He tilts his head— _you serious, Scully? Spring break?_

She is so astoundingly human to him now. Touchable, suddenly.

And yes. Spring break. She’s serious.

“I feel like your living room might work just fine,” he counters.

She narrows her eyes.

“Or…” he sucks his cheek. “Or Martha’s Vineyard.” When he looks at her he is not teasing; he is innocent and perfect and never before been loved. “Next weekend?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but she can’t. Because suddenly she’s nervous. And then because he’s interrupted her, holding out his hands.

“You know what,” he says, “nevermind, Scully. There’s no pressure. We’ve got… all summer, or next year, or something. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to make you—”

“Mulder.” A smile curling on her lips. She leans in on her tiptoes, taking his hands, the bikini from them, and kissing his chin, the side of his mouth. “Let me go see if this still fits.”

He blushes.

A moment later, she emerges—a whole lot of her, and the tiniest bit of blue string. He gapes, and she grins, relieved.

“Your car this weekend?” she asks him, voice high, shifting foot to foot like a schoolgirl. “Or mine?”

He is sitting on the sofa and he pulls her to him, big hands on her hips. “Mine,” he tells her. A kiss to her stomach, a nip of his teeth on the string between her breasts. “ _Mine_.”

He is not talking about the car.


End file.
